


i will always reach for you

by secretlyhuman



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguments, F/M, Injury, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 13:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11968635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretlyhuman/pseuds/secretlyhuman
Summary: That morning Amy'd woken up late with a pounding headache, the kind that meant she really needed a day off but she couldn’t take one. She and Diaz were in the middle of a kidnapping case, she was lucky to have even gotten the sleep she’d had but she trusted the night crew to call her if anything happened. Really all she wanted to do was to pull the covers up over her head, go back to sleep and forget this case she couldn’t solve. But she needed to get up, to do her work, maybe if she worked fast enough then Holt would give her the rest of the day off so she could finally get some real sleep.From there her day had only gotten worse.





	i will always reach for you

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest thing I've written that isn't an au and I wrote it to procrastinate the other longer things I have to write so there's that. The title is taken from a song called no more bad days by this wild life. Thanks you for reading.

_"i thought we hit rock bottom (and then the floor gave out)"_

_this wild life_

 

There was a small part of the wallpaper that was peeling away from the wall in Jake’s apartment. The wallpaper was a kind of stained brown, the kind that occurred after years of fading and neglect and really it was no surprise to Amy that it was peeling. The patch was about an inch across and two down and she’d been staring at it for the past ten minutes while she thought. Jake wasn’t home yet, wouldn’t be for a while, his schedule unpredictable, so she was waiting. They really needed to talk.

Soon the time for waiting had passed and she heard the click of his key in the door. She wasn’t sure if she should stand or stay on his couch. She didn’t want to make this A Thing, didn’t want it to spiral but they also couldn’t avoid it. She decided to stand up, feeling her hands start to shake as they always did before potential risks. He walked in, eyes glancing over her, seemingly unsurprised that she’d decided to go to his apartment when she was sent home, but not actually starting a conversation.

“Jake.” For the first time that day he seemed to look at her properly. “We need to talk about what happened earlier.  
“Why? So you can yell at me again?” He couldn’t keep the venom out of his voice. She recognised that he was trying to push her away, like he always did when things got serious, but the jab still stung.  
“You yelled at me too.” Her voice lacked its normal softness and it was like she could preempt that this would only end badly.

…

That morning she’d woken up late with a pounding headache, the kind that meant she really needed a day off but she couldn’t take one. She and Diaz were in the middle of a kidnapping case, she was lucky to have even gotten the sleep she’d had but she trusted the night crew to call her if anything happened. Really all she wanted to do was to pull the covers up over her head, go back to sleep and forget this case she couldn’t solve. But she needed to get up, to do her work, maybe if she worked fast enough then Holt would give her the rest of the day off so she could finally get some real sleep.

From there her day had only gotten worse.

The first hour she’d been kind of irritable as the thumping ache stayed behind her eyes but it felt like she and Rosa were finally getting somewhere. They had spotted a detail they missed, a first draft of the note the kidnapper had left crumpled in the trash. It had more information than the one that he left, they might have even been able to use it to find the woman he’d taken. And then they got the phone call.

It had been a disembodied voice and an address, no more than ten seconds in total but the second she heard the first words her her heart dropped, she knew what it meant. She could only pray that the victim was still alive, that they’d find a live body instead of a dead one. The pain in her head only intensified as she geared up, strapping on her vest and loading her service weapon as Rosa did the same.

They’d gone to the site, an empty warehouse to find a man in a ski mask with his hand over the woman's mouth.  
“Is this what you hoped for detective’s. “ She could feel the smirk in his voice, the tone of it making her feel like she needed to take a thousand showers. And then the worse had happened. It was one of those moments that spiralled out in slow motion. She watched the glide of a knife across the woman's throat then heard the kick of Rosa’s gun as the bullet cut through his shoulder. Both of them fell back, him still screaming.

The paperwork had been a nightmare. And it had only heightened both her headache and her frustration. They’d been too slow, a woman was dead and their suspect was in hospital unable to communicate why he’d done something so foul as doctors knitted his muscles back together.

She’d gone to the roof to definitely-not-smoke and that had been where Jake had found her. She wasn’t sure how long he’d watched her before she turned to see him but if the furrow in his brow was anything to go by it had been long enough that he’d seen her smoke.  
“Hey, Ames. “ He sounded so gentle, trying to avoid aggravating the headache he could tell she was carrying.  
“Hey.” She kept her eyes to the ground, not knowing what was coming.  
“I thought you’d quit?” He made it sound like a question but she knew what that really meant. He hated that she smoked at all, so she’d quit. She had broken her promise to him and she could feel the disappointment rolling off him in waves.  
“I did, it’s just been tough today.” She knew she was being short with him but at the same time she could feel the tears welling up. Today had sucked and she just wanted to sleep and really she couldn’t deal with Jake being so nice on top of it all.  
“Whatever, I just wanted to check you were okay. “ He was looking at her, so sweet and innocent, she couldn’t deal with it.  
“Look, I’m fine I just needed some space to breathe. “ The words came out sharper than she meant them to but she couldn’t force herself to apologise. She could see the words as they hit him and he narrowed his eyes.  
“I’m sorry I asked then.”  
“Jake -” His name came out like a whisper but she could see him readying to attack, not wanting to be left vulnerable by anything she said. The next words she spoke came out stronger. “You can go, you don’t have to check up on me, I’m not a child.”  
“Well,you’re acting like one right now.” She scowled and so did he, both of them aware that when they fought it got ugly but both to worked up to care.  
“Oh, fuck off, like you’re so mature.” She tried not to swear, but she’d grown up in a house with seven brothers so the curse felt natural on her tongue.  
“Grow up, Santiago.” With that he turned and stormed off the roof and she finally let herself cry. Since they got together he’d basically stopped calling her Santiago, switching it for softer endearments, Amy or Ames or babe but rarely Santiago. Now the word carried a physical presence in the charged air, she just wanted to go home.

After about ten minutes she wiped her eyes and forced herself to leave the roof, silence settling over the bullpen as she entered. Only Rosa acknowledged her as she walked to Holt’s office, tipping her head the tiniest amount. It made sense Rosa had been there, she felt awful so why wouldn’t the other woman.

Holt had accepted her taking a half day as before she’d gone to the roof she’d given him her ever neat paperwork. Instead of going straight home she’d gone to Jake’s apartment, using the spare keys his that lived on her keychain to unlock his front door. She’d put on one of his old, soft hoodies and the pair of yoga pants that she’d kept as his since long before they started dating. She’d done the dishes in his sink and folded the laundry from the drier, keeping busy to avoid thinking about everything that had happened. Eventually she ran out of housework so she sat on his old sofa and stared at the wallpaper.

...

He had yelled at her, that hadn’t been a lie but she had goaded him into it. Her headache still hung behind her eyes and all she wanted to do was sleep but she knew that until she sorted this out sleep would be just out of her reach.  
“Stop acting like the victim here.” He wasn’t yelling yet but she could tell he was ready to, that the days anger was still boiling away. For some reason that was the comment that sent her’s tipping over the edge.  
“You know who the victim is, the woman I saw die today Jake.” The days case surrounded her like a mourning shroud and she knew it was just fuel on the fire of her crappy day. Nothing could be said at this point to quench it, she just had to wait until it burnt out and then see what the had disintegrated in the flames.  
His face fell and then hardened again in a moment. “There is nothing I can do about that so I don’t get why you’re screaming at me. “ She wasn’t sure why she was screaming at him either, just that the screaming felt right. HIm confirming her misplaced anger only made it grow stronger.  
“Because you can do no wrong here can you.” She’d lowered her voice, not wanting to prove him out so the words came as a snarl, tearing themselves from her throat.  
“Fuck off Santiago.” His words were quieter than hers but she could feel the weight of each one as it ripped through her. He looked at her like she could be anyone, a stranger in his apartment.  
“Oh wow, Jake Peralta pushing someone away, that's new.” She was still stood rooted into the ground. The words cooled as they fell off her tongue, regret filling her. They knew each other well enough that she could tell she was clawing at the most vulnerable parts of him. He wasn't even looking at her anymore, as if he couldn’t bare to see what she was doing.  
“At least I have people to push away Santiago, apart from me who have you got.” She felt ill, knew he was only responding to her but that didn’t mean his words didn’t sting.  
“You know what, if I'm such a burden you don't have to push me away. I’m fucking done.” Suddenly she moved picking up her purse and practically ripping his key from the chain. She left with a slammed door and an angry silence. When she got back to her apartment she cried for the second time that day.

…

The next day was a Thursday, her day off and she was glad. Jake had Fridays off so she had two whole days without him before she’d have to face what she’d done. She knew it always got ugly when they fought, but this time was something more. They’d attacked all the places they knew would hurt the most. She realised all she wanted to do was curl up with Jake and sleep, like they had the week after Florida. Bodies tangled in unchanged sheets, occasionally they played the Die Hard Movies in the background but mostly they just slept.

It was one pm when her phone rang and confusion spread through her, Jake had been right she didn’t have that many people in her life and none of them should be calling her at that time, not even her mom. Holt’s name flashed across the screen and the confusion turned to dread.  
“Detective Santiago, you need to get to Brooklyn Methodist immediately, there has been an accident.” She hastily pulled back her hair and picked her keys up from where she’d dropped them when she got in the night before, cell phone still jammed against her ear. The captain’s voice sounded strained, cracks forming in his normally solid demeanour.

She broke at least one speed law on the way to the hospital and flashed her badge at the receptionist who led her to a small grey waiting room filled with the Nine-Nine. Charles was hunched in a corner crying while Gina comforted him as best she could, while looking completely broken herself. Rosa was pacing. Holt and Terry were sat in a corner talking quietly but Terry just looked tired. The only person missing was Jake, if it was such an emergency, why wasn’t Jake there?  
“Captain, what’s going on?” Her voice cut through the quiet of the room and the she felt the eyes of the squad land on her. “Where’s Jake?” A note of hysteria crept into her tone as she started to put the pieces together. Jake had to be fine, they were probably waiting for Hitchcock or Scully. Jake was probably on his way from the field as she spoke. He had to be okay, they were fighting.  
“Santiago.” The captain sounded so general she almost started crying right there, it had to be Jake. “There was an ambush at a crime scene this morning, Detective Peralta was shot twice. He is currently in surgery, we thought you’d want to be here for when he came out.” Of course she did, she wanted everything for Jake. All the air had been sucked out of the room because Jake could be dying and he didn’t know how much she loved him.  
“Has someone called Karen?” The words were distant from her, like someone else was saying them but she saw Gina nod.  
“Yes, she is on her way, Detective.” That was when Amy finally let herself fall apart. The sobs ripped themselves from her and she pitched forward into the captain, pressing herself into his shoulder.  
“He’s going to be okay, right?” She sounded like the child he’d accused her of being the day before, someone small and lost. She didn’t know who she was without Jake Peralta beside her. He had to be okay.

…

The room was a smaller than her bedroom and he seemed sunken into the twin bed. There was a heart monitor by his head connected to one of the wires that led from his broken body, the beeping creating a suffocating rhythm in the small space. She’d never seen Jake look so small before, was unused to him not filling the space he was in. His eyes were supported by purple bags and most of his torso was covered in bandages. Karen was sat on one side of the bed, back rigid and Amy didn’t want to disturb her.

There was another chair in the room, an ugly plastic thing so Amy sat there, reaching out to rest her hand on Jake’s arm. The doctors said he was stable but not out of the woods, they didn’t know when he’d wake up or if he’d be her Jake when he did. Her whole body ached, she wanted to go to sleep and wake up far from here this whole thing a nightmare she’d be able to shake off.

When she’d been undercover she’d had nightmares like this, stress bringing her anxiety to the front of her mind. She dreamt of bullets in his ribs and knives across his throat, of what could have happened if she hadn’t found Hoytzman’s ice cream truck or driven out to Florida. She didn’t have the dreams every night but she had them enough. Enough that while in that cinder block cell she’d wondered if she could survive without Jake Peralta. She hadn’t been able to answer that until now, with a resounding no. She didn’t think she’d taken a single breath since she’d walked into the waiting room and seen that Jake wasn’t there.

…

A week passed and every day felt a little more dire. Like she was moving further and further from the light. Holt had told her to take as much time as she needed and that her’d deal with the paperwork. She’d spent as much of that time as she could by his side, holding his hand and praying like she’d seen her mother do when her abuela got sick.

She stopped going to church a few months after she became a detective, she’d seen enough that she didn’t know if she believed in anymore. But she promised that she’d start going again if Jake was okay. (He had to be okay. )

Karen walked in holding two cups of coffee she’d picked up on the way to the hospital. It had been Amy’s night to stay by his side, so she was grateful for the caffeine that the drink brought.  
“Yeledah, it’s Saturday so i’m going to the synagogue later to pray.” Amy nodded at the words and Karen seemed to think for a second. “Would you like to join me?”

Before everything a trip to the synagogue had been on her and Jake’s joint calendar. They were going to go with his mother and have lunch at a nearby Thai place afterwards. Jake had gone once a month for as long as she had known him but this was going to be the first time that she was going to join him. She recalled it with a cool detachment like it had happened to someone else in a different lifetime.

Her response was quiet. “Who would be with him while we were gone?” She couldn’t imagine leaving him alone in a bed that wasn’t his.  
“Gina and Charles are visiting later, they’ll call if there’s any change, no matter how small, yeledah. “ She felt Karen’s eye on her and she gave the smallest of nods. It felt wrong every time she left the hospital. Like she was walking away from him again, she felt like maybe if she’d been better the day before the accident then none of this would have happened, she wouldn't be facing the prospect of a world that didn’t have Jake Peralta in it. Even going home to sleep felt like a betrayal, she was never going to be able to fix what she’d done. Even if he woke up fine (a prospect that diminished more with each passing day) then she would never be good enough for him.

…

She’d cried a lot at the synagogue, it had felt like a tasted of the forgiveness she’d been so desperately reading for. It was on the way back she got the call from Gina.

“Get back to the hospital, it's important.” She felt the kick of the car as Karen accelerated next to her and it was all she could do not to cry again from the fear that she’d missed it. She hadn’t even said goodbye, she’d been so sure that he’d be there when she got back.

The drive between the synagogue and Brooklyn Methodist felt like it took forever and it felt like it took a second and soon she was feeling her feet crash against the tile floor as she tried to navigate the turns of the hospital as quickly as she could. Until he was there, still in front of her, heartbeat monitor still going.

“Gina, what happened why did you call?” She stopped to let the anger that was boiling up roll away until all that was left was her fear. “I thought he was dying.”  
“Amy, he’s waking up.” And then she was crying again but in a way that almost felt like laughing. It was going to be alright, he was going to be alright. Her ribs expanded for the first time since she’d left his apartment a week ago and she remembered what it felt like to breathe.

…

Everything happened in a blur after that. A whirlwind of passing moments that she didn’t really know how to handle. It took almost two weeks for them to be alone after that first day. He was discharged on bed rest and she was sent with him, to change his bandages and give him his pills. His apartment looked the same as it had all those weeks ago and she felt like an intruder in the cluttered space. She’d left him and now she was back but she still felt like a traitor. He was the first to mention the tension that clung to them, like static in a thunderstorm waiting for the lightning to strike.

‘You can leave if you want.” He was tucked in under plaid sheets and his voice was so small that Amy almost didn’t register it at first.  
“No. I couldn’t. “ She said it without thinking but as she said it she knew the words were true, she would never be able to leave him, not until one of them wasn’t breathing.  
“You were going to.” He sounded so small that she wanted to pull him in but couldn’t for fear of jogging the bullet holes and surgical incisions that made up his torso.  
“I was wrong.” A small smile graced his features, he was slimmer than he had been but his smile was the same, slightly smug, proud of making Amy admit defeat. Her next words come out almost as a small as his. “I thought you were going to die Jake, you looked dead. And I was so fucking scared that you’d be gone and I’d be left without you.” His smile faded, replaced with something approaching sincerity.  
“Ames, listen.” He pauses for a second to gather his thoughts. “ You will never be without me, I’m gonna be bugging you until one of us dies.” The smile is back and soon it infects her and they’re laughing with the joy of two people who’ve been so scared for so long.

…

That night they watch Die Hard on the mattress he bought because of her and their hearts are so full. Amy wonders how she thought she could ever live without him

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so in this I made Amy a lot more Christian (catholic specifically) than she is in canon, I also made both Jake and Karen somewhat more Jewish. In the hospital scenes Karen calls Amy "yeledah" which, if the internet is to be believed, is a Hebrew endearment for child because I feel like Karen would definitely take Amy in as her own because i think Jake probably learned to love so strongly from Karen. I also made Jake and Amy both really personal when they fight because they're both so competitive and you see in the episode about the mattress that when they do fight it gets bad quickly. I had Jake be the one to be injured because I don't think we enough of protective/ sad Amy in canon. 
> 
> This was just all the thoughts I had that led me to this fic and I needed to get them out of my head. Thanks again for reading. 
> 
> Also should I start putting my tumblr in the notes so other people can scream about Brooklyn 99 with me.


End file.
